Cliffhangers
by Jenn1984
Summary: A collection of scenes, all of which will end with a cliffhanger. More hurt than comfort.
1. All Deliberate Speed

So I get these flashes of scenes in my head, and most of them end up being some sort of cliffhanger. So I've decided to keep a collection of cliffhanger scenes.

Enjoy the angst ;P

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. And this is unbetaed.

* * *

"My brother's innocent."

Shawn guessed the man who stood before him was in his mid 30s. Dark hair, dark eyes, typical of the scary villain variety, he mused. The stranger's palms and fingers were rough, calloused and greasy, which led Shawn to believe he worked in construction or as a mechanic. He looked _strong_.

"I'm glad to hear it, dude, but what's this got to do with me?" Shawn asked as he checked his watch. Juliet would be leaving the station for lunch soon, and he had some serious flirting to get in before then. If he could only get rid of tall, dark and hairy...

"I don't think you understand, _Mr. Spencer_," the hulk said, and Shawn's body tensed when he heard his name. A fair amount of people knew who he was, but he didn't like the way this guy said it; how he _hissed_ it. "You see, I've wired a car in the parking lot. One little click and I can't control how many people get hurt."

The stranger held up a small device full of buttons, one of which was blinking.

Shawn snorted. "That doesn't even _look _like a detonator. Why don't you take your fancy cell phone and head down to the boardwalk, there's a ton of cute girls walking around this time of day." He took a closer look at the device. "But you might wanna trade this in, buddy, it doesn't even have a screen. How do you text?"

A small smile graced the man's lips. "Funny. But something tells me-" he scratched his chin, "something tells me you won't find it nearly as _funny _when I destroy Detective O'Hara's car on her way to lunch." The smile faded into a pure, cold-as-ice stare, and Shawn suddenly found his face growing warm.

"You're lying," he said. His voice cracked only slightly.

The man's grin came back, this time malicious. "Am I?"

Shawn's eyes darted around the parking lot, furious and quick. From one car to another, less than a second for each one, until the green Volkswagen stopped him. A greasy finger lingered over the blinking button again.

"Wait," Shawn wheezed, barely able to hear his own voice. This guy _was _serious. "What do you want from me?"

Dropping the device to his side, the man simply said, "Help."

"Fine, I'll help, whatever. Just leave Juliet out of this," Shawn said quickly. The tall stranger smiled again.

"Great," he said, and raised the device once more before he pushed the small button and grabbed Shawn's arm.

The sound was _deafening_.


	2. Bend and Break

Random. Again. Hope you like it, regardless of no story. I didn't have anyone beta it. All mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.

* * *

Sweat dripped down his spine.

The sensation was an uncomfortable one. Shawn wanted to reach up and wipe it off, to stop the tickle on his back. It was annoying.

But moving his hands wasn't something he was capable of at the moment.

To move his hands, they would have to be untied. And to have his hands untied meant someone had to come rescue him.

Neither of these were options for him.

Someone coming to rescue him meant that someone knew he needed to be rescued.

Nobody knew he needed to be rescued.

How he got himself into these situations, he wasn't so sure. Things had been going fine with Judy. At least, he thought they had. He was getting the information, the young brunette crying her heart out to him. She was part of it, the whole conspiracy, and he was willing to bet she had even masterminded the entire heist.

She was good. Which is how she had pulled one over on Shawn.

He pulled on his ropes again, which hung him in the middle of the room. All the circulation in his arms was gone and they were numb. Painfully numb.

"Okay!" he called out with strained vocal chords. "Joke's over! I get it!"

He waited, but there was no response.

"I promise I won't say anything!" he tried again. Again, no response.

"Really, could this get any worse?" he muttered to himself as another drop of sweat beaded down his back.

"I think it could, Mr. Spencer."

The voice made the hair on the back of Shawn's neck stand up as a sharp _crack_ resounded in his ears. The pain on the back of his head made his vision go white.

And it _stung_.


	3. Slow burn

This is for MusicalLuna.

I didn't have anyone beta it. All mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.

* * *

The sound exploded through Shawn's eardrums with enough force to drop him to his knees. It was surprising to him since he figured he was far enough away and wouldn't feel as much of the impact as the officers who were much closer. Also surprising was the heat from the fire, which felt like it was boiling the skin off his face.

He watched as firefighters scrambled to hook up the fire hose and noticed something move in the corner of his vision. Snapping to attention, Shawn squinted as a figure slipped out the back of the burning building. The man removed his hood and Shawn knew, even from as far a distance as he was. A scar was there, down the side of his neck, and he was going to get away. Again.

Before his brain could register what his shaky legs were doing, Shawn darted behind the squad cars and out of sight into the street behind the sizzling building where Inferno, as he had so accurately named their criminal, had escaped to. He stopped and looked around, silently debating which way to go in pursuit.

"This is stupid," he mumbled when he realized it wouldn't be very effective if he found the guy. Shawn didn't carry a gun and nobody had seen him or the suspect flee the scene.

Just as he turned to head back, something sharp pushed against his shoulder blade. Shawn stopped and shivered at the feel of someone's hot breath tickling the back of his neck.

"Why did you follow me?" the voice rumbled low through Shawn's already ringing ears and made his prickly skin damp with sweat.

Without turning, Shawn licked his lips and said, "Would you believe me if I said I was looking for a bathroom? Explosions always make me have to go."

Inferno didn't move, except to push the pointed object harder into Shawn's shoulder. He hissed as his nerves screamed at the pressure.

"I've seen you at every crime scene. I know who you are," Inferno whispered harshly into Shawn's ear. "Don't pull that crap with me."

Shawn let out a short breath and shook his head. "No crap pulling here, buddy. Not after seeing what you've done over the past few weeks."

The man laughed into Shawn's hair and the fake psychic flinched.

"Uh uh," Inferno said and grabbed Shawn's neck with his free hand and pushed with his other hand.

A scream gurgled through Shawn's throat, eyes catching on the blade of a knife as it broke through the skin of his shoulder, pressed through from behind.


	4. Cemetery

When Shawn finally regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a marble sarcophagus in the middle of a cemetery.

There was a woman walking slow circles around him. Every time she passed near his head, the heat from the flickering candles warmed his face. She was burning something he couldn't see. The smell was suffocating him.

The woman stopped her zombie walk, Shawn realized, and set out another bowl near his elbow.

Shawn cleared his throat. "Watcha got there? We having a picnic?" he asked nervously, greeted only by the sound of clanking metal. "You forgot the checkered tablecloth. Can't have a picnic without one. I think there's a WalMart down the street, I could just run over and grab one." His host didn't respond.

"I don't know if you think this is romantic, but lady, I'm really not into the whole intimacy-in-a-cemetery idea." Shawn flinched when another cold bowl brushed against his bare arm. "And what's with all the bowls?"

Finally the woman rounded on him. "Hush, Psychic," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

_Okay_, he thought, _freaking out now__._

Shawn craned his neck up as far as he could to get a look in the duffle bag which sat open on the ground next to the sarcophagus. It was mostly filled with jars, all of them with the labels torn off so he didn't know what was inside them.

Well, _that_ couldn't be good.

"Look," Shawn said quietly, pleading now. "I really think you have the wrong person. I'm not even really a psychic."

The woman stopped and turned to look Shawn in the eye. "Lying won't get you out of this."

"Out of what, exactly?" His eyes darted nervously from one side to the other, hoping to spot someone, _anyone_.

She just smiled, pearl white teeth perfectly aligned, and pulled a razor-sharp knife out of her sleeve.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas..."

_Oh God_.


End file.
